


Overdue

by NeverAndAlways



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childbirth, Damn, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Stanley Uris Lives, Trans Male Character, Trans Stanley Uris, i wrote this in one sitting, married Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: Based on an rp with my friend dabihawkss.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 5
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an rp with my friend dabihawkss.

Stan is relieved when they tell him he's going to be induced. He's a week and a half overdue already with no signs of going into labor anytime soon, and he's been cramping on and off for days now. It never goes anywhere, but it still gets his hopes up every single time. Bill, too. He's stopped telling him about it. The last time he did, poor guy got so excited that they might be having a baby, and he was so disappointed when nothing happened.

This time, they both got themselves convinced. For a while, at least. Stan started having contractions mid-afternoon, and they stung just enough that he thought maybe, _maybe_ this time. Timed them precisely all afternoon -- stopwatch in his pocket, writing them down -- and they did progress for a while. Until they got to ten minutes, at which point they fizzled out and stopped. Stan put the stopwatch in his dresser drawer and went to run a bath and definitely did not cry. Bill tried to give him his space the rest of the evening. It was a disappointment for both of them.

Bill is just circling the edge of sleep when he feels Stan climb into bed with him. Lies still, eyes closed, until he feels the press of Stan's belly against his midsection, an arm over his shoulder, and Stan's face pressed into the crook of his neck. Bill blindly lifts a hand to card through Stan's hair. It's still damp.

"You alright?" he asks. There's a pause.

"I'm tired," says Stan. He sighs into Bill's skin. "and I also slightly resent you for getting me pregnant. Only slightly."

"Hey, it w-was your idea to begin with. And you didn't seem to mind at the time."

Stan hums. "I didn't mind. In the moment. I do now. And you wanted a baby too, smartass."

"I did. Still do." Bill opens his eyes to peer down at his husband. "You don't regret doing this, do you?"

Stan draws back to look him in the eye. "No. no, no. I promise. The other two times. The...the miscarriages. I know you felt horrible about it, but....you don't get what that felt like, Bill. It's a _relief_ to make it this far."

Bill's heart sinks a little at the thought. He sighs and kisses the top of Stan's head, because he doesn't know what else to do. Stan leans his head into it like a cat. Then he takes one of Bill's hands and presses it to the side of his belly. There's a shift under the skin, more of a wiggle than a kick.

"He says hello, dad," Stan murmurs.

Bill smiles and splays his fingers out. "Hey, sprout. Just can't make up your mind, can you."

"Mm. Well, he's coming Friday whether he wants to or not." Stan puts his own hand near the top of his belly. "He's almost nine pounds, Bill, _that's_ what I'm mad about." he smirks. He's only half joking.

"C-section is still an op-option. I know it's not y-y-your first choice, but it is an option."

"Only if I have to." Stan is gently poking around, tracing the contours of the baby's feet and knees. "I'll be fine, they said his head and shoulders aren't measuring too big...he is definitely ready to come, though. Even if my body isn't. His head is like...feels like he's about to fall out. Not to sound gross or anything."

"It's not gross. The mucus plug was gross; this kind of pales in comparison."

Stan snorts. "I'm sorry for making you look at it, I forgot that it was a thing that happens."

"I'm just messing with you." Bill draws a slow circle with his hand; the baby kicks again, gently. "Where is his head? I can't even feel it now."

Stan takes Bill's hand, presses his fingers in low on his belly, almost at his pubic bone. "Right here. You can barely feel him, but that little bump is the back of his head. He can barely even move now, it's more like...little wiggles and nudges. He can't even stretch out anymore. Not that that stops him from trying."

Bill whistles lowly. "Jesus, Stan...no wonder you walk like a cowboy these days."

"If you call me brokeback mountain again, you're sleeping on the couch."

"Hey, blame that one on Richie, he started it."

Stan lets that one go. Instead he looks up at Bill. He's clearly tired, but his eyes are fond. Bill looks back at him, just as fond.

"Hi, handsome."

"Hi." Stan kisses his chin. It's the closest thing he can reach from this angle. "I love you, Bill. So much. I hope you know that."

Bill returns the kiss, gathers him up in his arms inasmuch as he can. Feels Stan yawn, and laughs to himself. "I love you too. Get some sleep before the kiddo wakes up again."

"Yes, sir." Stan's voice is gently mocking, but also muffled in Bill's shirt and fuzzy with oncoming sleep. Bill lets his eyes drift shut, still holding Stan, and within minutes both are snoring.

~o0o~


	2. Chapter 2

Stan goes into labor at 9:29 am. Lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and monitors and an IV line. The contractions start slow, just a throbbing ache in his lower back, but once they get going, they get going. He and Bill hang out in their room, mostly. They wander up and down the hallways when Stan is finally allowed out of bed, but he puts a stop to that when he has to lean on Bill and hum through a contraction. He doesn't want people seeing him like that. So it's back to the room, husband and IV pole in tow.

And contractions are still only five minutes apart. They hurt, for sure -- stop him in his tracks, and he has to lean on Bill to keep his feet under him -- but it's doable. It's just a waiting game. He can do this, right?

* * *

His water breaks at 12:06. Standing in the middle of the room, hands on his lower back, breathing through a contraction when he hears Bill say his name. He opens his eyes, and it's then that he realizes he's...damp. Takes a step back and looks down to see a wet spatter on the floor, and his face burns.

"...Did I pee, or did my water just break?" he asks dumbly.

"I think your water broke," Bill says, equally dumbfounded.

"I...think so too." Stan sighs through his nose. "Well, that's good, I guess."

Bill's already in motion, grabbing towels from a stack on the equipment cart. He pushes the call button on his way over to Stan. Stan grabs one of the towels from him and jams it between his legs, avoiding eye contact; this is awkward in the worst way.

"It's okay, Stan," Bill soothes, laying a towel between Stan's feet. "Just part of the process, right?"

Right.

* * *

Stan was at five centimeters when his water broke. His doctor bumps up the dose of pitocin after that to keep things moving, and within three hours he's at nine and a half. Transition's a sunovabitch. He goes from bed to shower to bed to floor, constantly in motion. Bill's never heard him so loud. It scares him. He can tell Stan's struggling; every time he gets a chance to catch his breath, it smacks him in the face again. He flip-flops between clinging to Bill and snarling if Bill tries to touch him, so Bill just lets him take the lead. His body knows what it's doing.

Eventually Stan settles on an exercise ball by the window, rocking back and forth to take the pressure off his hips, and making noises he'd be embarrassed by if he was in any condition to care. Bill's on a chair behind him, applying counterpressure when he can. Suddenly Stan reaches back and grabs Bill's wrist so hard it almost hurts. Bill freezes.

"Stan...?"

"He's coming."

"Wh --"

"He's fucking coming out _now."_ Stan's voice is strained, and every muscle is bowstring-tight.

It doesn't register right away. That's not how it's supposed to happen, is it? There's supposed to be a doctor announcing that he's ten centimeters, something like that -- but then he sees Stan duck his head and hunch his back, and all movement stops. Bill can almost feel the color drain from his face. He moves around to face Stan. As soon as Stan comes up for air he gasps _"Bill, I'm fucking pushing"_ all in a rush, then he goes right back to it. Bill waits until he's done pushing, then carefully tries to pry Stan's fingers off his wrist.

"Honey, you ne-need to let go of me so I can reach the c-call button," he says gently. Stan grimaces.

"Help me on the bed, Bill, jesus christ -- get me off this thing."

"Okay, okay, I g-got you, hang on --"

So Bill helps him to his feet, shuffles him over to the bed and hefts him up onto it. Stan bears down as soon as he hits the mattress; Bill glances between his legs and is lightheaded for a moment because yeah, something's definitely happening now. He fumbles for the call button and goes right back to Stan's side.

"Stan, oh m-my god, I can almost see him."

Stan makes a little strangled noise. "That's nice."

A nurse hurries into the room. Bill blurts out "he's pushing" as though it's not immediately obvious, but the nurse is patient. She quickly checks Stan, then moves to grab the equipment cart.

"He sure is. Well done, Stanley."

The room is full of quiet chaos from that point on. Another nurse arrives, and Stan's bed is ringed with people. Bill doesn't leave his side. After a few minutes, he's halfway on the bed himself: he's got a knee up on the mattress and his arms around Stan as much as he can manage. Stan, for his part, handles it well. Twenty minutes go by, then thirty. He's sort of quietly frantic, panting and keening and clinging to Bill, but that's as vocal as he gets until he starts crowning. Then he lets out a yell that startles Bill and even the nurses.

"Oh my fucking _god,_ Bill -- fuck, I can't do it, I can't do it --"

Bill crowds into his space, presses kisses to his head and shoulders and wherever else. "Hey, shh, no no no, you can. You can. You're already pushing, you're almost there, jaybird, I promise. Just take a breather and try again, yeah?"

So Stan just weathers the next contraction, huffing and puffing and letting his body do the work. The nurse tells Bill to hold one of Stan's legs. He does without thinking. It's a front-row view to what's happening, and he's stunned for a moment. He presses another kiss to Stan's jaw.

"I see him, Stan, his head's almost all the way out. Almost there."

It feels like it takes forever. The baby hangs right on the edge of fully crowning, and Stan starts edging into panic. But when it's over, it's over, very abruptly. Stan lets out a yell, bordering on a scream, and presses himself against Bill. When Bill risks a glance down, there's the baby -- thick, dark hair, and already the suggestion of a Uris nose. Stan grabs Bill's hand and squeezes.

"Bill, he's coming." his voice is small and quiet.

"I know, I see him." Bill has to fight to keep the stutter out of his voice. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Stan."

Stan pushes once, maybe twice, and there he is. They're both speechless for a few seconds while the nurse puts him on Stan's chest and clears his nose and mouth. He's not much of a crier. He makes a few grumpy sounds, maybe fusses a little, but once he recognizes Stan, he quiets down. Stan doesn't cry either, not really; his eyes are misty, but he's too tired to cry. Bill on the other hand, drops kisses on Stan's cheek and jaw, traces the baby's ears and nose and hair, and leaves tears on both.

"Nico," he whispers. "Hi, Nico."

~***ooo***~

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


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